Wielder Of The Dragon Flame

Chapter 38

Morning arrived like it always did in the labor quarters,suddenly and without mercy.

The sun hadn't even fully cleared the horizon when the announcement bell shattered the pre-dawn quiet. It wasn't a gentle chime or a melodic ringing. It was a harsh, grating clang that echoed off every stone wall and seemed specifically designed to jolt people from sleep in the most unpleasant way possible.

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

The sound reverberated through Asta's small room, drilling into his skull like a physical force. He jerked awake with a startled gasp, his body instinctively trying to sit up before his brain had fully processed what was happening. The result was that his head connected solidly with the low ceiling beam above his bunk.

"JEZZ! WHAT IS THAT?!"

 Asta yelled, his hand flying to his forehead where a knot was already forming. He fell back onto his thin mattress, wincing, eyes squeezed shut against both the pain and the continued assault of that horrible bell.

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

"I think it's the announcement speaker." 

Jabber's voice drifted up from the lower bunk, muffled and thick with sleep. He sounded only slightly more coherent than Asta felt. 

"They do this sometimes when there's something important."

"They couldn't just knock on doors like normal people?"

 Asta groaned, still rubbing his head. 

"They had to invent the most annoying sound in the world and blast it at everyone?"

"Apparently."

The bell finally,mercifully,stopped ringing. The sudden silence was almost as jarring as the noise had been. Asta's ears were still ringing, a high-pitched whine that made him want to shake his head to clear it.

Then a crackling sound filled the air, the sound of an old, poorly maintained speaker system coming to life. 

There was a screech of feedback that made both of them wince, then a male voice began speaking. It was amplified to the point of distortion, making it sound tinny and artificial, but loud enough that every word carried clearly through the thin walls of their room.

"Attention all laborers." 

The voice announced, each syllable clipped and official. 

"Attention all laborers. Squad training is cancelled for today. I repeat, squad training is cancelled for today."

Asta felt a mix of relief and confusion. Relief because his muscles were still sore from yesterday's training session, and an extra day of rest sounded wonderful. Confusion because training was rarely cancelled,the labor section operated on a strict schedule, and deviations from that schedule were unusual.

The amplified voice continued: 

"The message portal is now open. All laborers are instructed to proceed to the message portal area to read any correspondence that has been sent to you by family, friends, or other approved contacts. The portal will remain open for two hours. That is all.”

The speaker crackled once more, then went silent.

For a moment, neither Asta nor Jabber moved. Then the implication of what they'd just heard hit them both at the same time.

Messages. From the outside world.

Asta practically launched himself off the top bunk, forgetting in his haste that there was a proper way to climb down. His feet hit the floor with a heavy thud that made the floorboards creak in protest. He stumbled slightly, catching himself against the wall, his heart suddenly racing with anticipation.

"Come on!" 

He said, already moving toward the small bathroom they shared.

 "We need to hurry before everyone else crowds the portal!"

Jabber was slower to rise, swinging his legs over the side of his bunk with more care. His face was still creased from sleep, his dark hair sticking up in several directions. But there was something in his eyes,a careful blankness that Asta was beginning to recognize as Jabber's defense mechanism when he was trying not to hope for something.

They crashed into the bathroom together, a space barely large enough for one person let alone two. It contained a cracked mirror, a single sink with a tap that only produced cold water, and two wooden cups for tooth brushing. 

The morning routine that usually took them ten minutes of careful coordination,you use the sink, then I use the sink, we take turns, we stay out of each other's way was compressed into a chaotic scramble.

Asta grabbed his wooden cup and the small container of tooth powder they were issued monthly. 

It tasted terrible,gritty and bitter, with a vague mint flavor that was more memorable than reality,but it got the job done. He dumped some powder into his cup, added water from the tap, and began scrubbing at his teeth with his finger while Jabber did the same beside him.

They jostled for position in front of the mirror, elbows bumping, trying to see their reflections in the cracked glass while simultaneously trying to brush thoroughly enough to not have terrible breath but quickly enough to get out of there.

"Move over."

 Asta mumbled around his mouthful of tooth powder, the words barely intelligible.

"You move over." 

Jabber muttered back, equally incomprehensible.

They finished at almost the same time, spitting into the sink in a gross harmony, then rinsing their mouths and faces with palmfuls of cold water that made them both gasp. Asta grabbed the single rough towel hanging on a hook and dried his face, then tossed it to Jabber.

Less than three minutes after the announcement, they were rushing out of their room, still pulling on their worn labor section tunics, their hair finger-combed at best, but moving with purpose.

The corridors were already filled with people. Other laborers had obviously had the same idea,get there early before the crowds made everything difficult. People were streaming from doorways, heading in the same direction, a river of bodies flowing toward the message portal area.

"Finally." 

Jabber said as they joined the flow, his voice still carrying that carefully neutral tone.

 "It's been what, three months since the last portal opening?"

"Four." 

Asta corrected, having to raise his voice slightly to be heard over the shuffle of dozens of feet on stone floors and the rising chatter of excited conversations. 

"Four months. They said it would be monthly, but I guess they decided that was too generous."

"Of course they did."

They moved with the crowd, letting the momentum carry them forward. Asta found himself bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet, unable to contain his nervous energy. Sebastian had written to him. His old butler, the man who'd practically raised him after his father died, had sent a message. 

And the chefs,Helena and Marcus,they'd written too. People who cared about him, who remembered him even though he'd been cast out and sent to this place.

The message portal area was in one of the older sections of the labor quarters, a large room that might have once been a storage facility or workshop but had been repurposed. The ceiling was high and arched, supported by thick stone columns that had probably stood for centuries.

 The walls were lined with rows and rows of small compartments,cubby holes, really, each one labeled with a name carved into the stone above it.

The room was already getting crowded when Asta and Jabber arrived, but they'd beaten the worst of the rush. People were spreading out, searching for their designated portals,the specific cubby that bore their name.

 Some were alone, standing in front of their portals with expressions of nervous anticipation. Others had formed small groups, friends or roommates standing together for moral support.

"There."

 Jabber said, pointing toward the left side of the room. 

"That section has our names. The As and Bs are over there."

They navigated through the growing crowd, mumbling "excuse me" and "sorry" as they squeezed past people. Asta's eyes scanned the carved names above the portal compartments, searching: Ardent, 

Ashford, Atkins...Xavier, Asta.

His portal was positioned at about chest height, a small wooden door with a simple latch. Above it, carved into the stone in letters that had probably been there since before he arrived, was his full name. 

Seeing it there, permanent and official, made something twist in his chest. Even here, in the place meant for failures and rejects, he was still Asta Xavier. The name hadn't been taken from him, even if everything else had.

Beside him, Jabber had found his own portal just two compartments down. Sunfeld, Jabber. They were alphabetically separated, but close enough to not feel completely isolated.

Asta glanced at Jabber, who was staring at his portal door with that carefully blank expression again. 

"Good luck." 

Asta said quietly.

Jabber's eyes flicked to him, then away.

"You too.”

Asta turned his attention back to his own portal. His hands were trembling slightly as he reached for the latch,just a simple hook that lifted to release the door. He took a breath, steadying himself, then lifted the latch and pulled the small door open…